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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367225">drink up your movements, still I can't get enough</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncomfortable_teeth/pseuds/uncomfortable_teeth'>uncomfortable_teeth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, Not Beta Read, Rehabilitation, earring making, lesbian reddie, richie gets help I promise, richie goes to rehab, they're all girls because I say so</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:47:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncomfortable_teeth/pseuds/uncomfortable_teeth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some fem! Reddie moments/oneshots. </p><p> </p><p>for the first time i had something to lose:<br/>Richie spends her time in rehab productively, making earrings and tackling her demons.</p><p> </p><p>send requests to my tumblr @clownmush<br/>(work title is from The Louvre by Lorde)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Female Eddie Kaspbrak/Female Richie Tozier - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. ghost in the world, ghost with no home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tw for an implied eating disorder, kindof. It's up for interpretation. Still, be safe. &lt;3</p><p>I mention that Richie is a redhead, that's because I'm using the designs I made on my tumblr (@clownmush) that mixes all of the versions of the Losers. </p><p>Finally, chapter title comes from the song Ghosting by Mother Mother.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If there's one thing you need to know about Richie Tozier it’s that if she makes a promise, she will keep it. It’s one of the, admittedly few, standards she holds herself to. Sure she may drink like co-ed after finals week and she was no stranger to few harder substances, but she would be damned before she’d break a promise. It probably stemmed back to the pact she and the other Losers made that summer, but she couldn’t be certain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> So far, that standard had never proved to be a problem for Richie. Nobody made promises in Hollywood, they gave soft maybes if you were lucky. Nothing was ever certain, especially roles, which unfortunately Richie had to learn the hard way. Still, she adapted, and learned to be very stingy with her promises. Nobody there deserved them anyway, not when they couldn’t do her the same courtesy back. So Richie lived a (relatively) peaceful life with no promises to anyone, no hard commitments…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until she reunited with Eddie Kaspbrak.</span>
</p><p>.</p><p>
  <span>Richie made a lot of promises to Eddie. She couldn’t help it. She just had these sweet, baby blue eyes that Richie couldn’t stand to see sad. It felt like someone took her heart, put it in a blender, and made a puree out of it. She couldn’t handle it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were in elementary school, she made Richie pinky swear that she would let Eddie have flying powers when they played superheros at recess. In 6th grade she made her swear not to tell anyone when she woke up and found blood on Richie’s sheets during a sleepover. Freshman year she made her promise to take her to see Jurassic Park even though her mother had strictly banned it. (They managed it, under the guise that they were going to see some kids movie about a whale or something). Other than that, Eddie very rarely abused Richie’s promises. Still, Richie was more than willing to give them out to her. It was like being around Eddie made Richie want to do anything for her. She’s pretty sure if she had no semblance of self control she’d promise her the moon and stars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Richie carried Eddie out of the collapsing Neibolt house, she made her a lot of promises. She promised her she’d get her out of there alive (She had). She promised she’d replace her gold crucifix necklace that broke when she was slammed into a wall by the giant murderous clown demon (Harder than she thought but she managed it). She promised she wouldn’t tell Eddie’s husband about the alcohol they drank back at Jade of the Orient (it never came up). It wasn’t until she was holding her best friend’s cold hand as she lay comatose in a hospital bed that she made her biggest promise. Before Eddie saw her again, she was going to get help. She was going to start eating again and she was going to stop drinking every night and she was going to stop taking pills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the time she was only saying it, hoping that by some miracle, it would make Eddie wake up faster. After the third day of refusing the food Bev brought for her, however, she came to the realization that she was going to have to stick to that promise. Or, well, Bill yelled at her until she did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the nurses kicked her out of Eddie’s room as politely as possible, she arrived at the townhouse to find the rest of the Losers sitting in the living room quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this, an intervention?” Richie had laughed weakly, before heading for the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike and Ben had exchanged an uncomfortable look. Bill sighed and strode over to Richie, placing a hand on her arm to stop her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, we’re worried about you...” She started, looking back at the others who nodded in unison. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to eat something.” Beverly continued before Richie could protest. “And we…” He hesitated for a moment before Ben placed a hand on his arm reassuringly. “We think you should stop going to see Eddie in the hospital.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a few seconds for the words to click fully. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She finally managed, horrified. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, you need help. Eddie is in there fighting for her life and you’re just throwing yours away!” The exasperation was clear from Bill’s tone, but still Richie couldn’t help herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you Bill! I’m fine!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not fine! For god’s sake Richie, you haven’t eaten in three days! You’re spending all this time worried about Eddie and you aren’t taking care of yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine! I’ll eat! I’ll eat and shower and whatever! But I’m not leaving Eddie in that hospital alone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We saw the bottles in your bag Richie…” Ben piped up from her spot on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie felt her face flush with anger and shame. “You went through my shit?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bev jumped to her defense “We had to bring you clothes while you were in the hospital! You weren’t exactly subtle about hiding them!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stifling silence fell over the group. Mike stood from the couch finally and placed her hands on Richie’s shoulders. “Richie, look at me.” She said gently. “Eddie will be fine. She always has been. But when she wakes up, she will still be hurting. You can’t help her if you keep going on the way you are. Doesn’t Eddie deserve you at your best?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as Richie hated to admit it, Mike had a calming presence to her. And she was right. Eddie deserved better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “But… what if she wakes up and I’m not there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike smiled reassuringly “I will stay with her at the hospital. I promise, she won’t be alone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie looked around the room at the other Losers. Bill gently squeezed her arm “We won’t leave until she wakes up.” She said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We promise.” Bev added, squeezing Ben’s hand, which Richie now noticed was interlaced with his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of consideration, she nodded slowly. “Alright… fine. I’ll do it for Eddie.” </span>
</p><p>.</p><p>
  <span>And that’s how Richie found herself standing in front of The Clearspring Institute for Substance Abuse Rehabilitation. Bill came to stand next to her, suitcase in tow. “You know you could get your own bag Rich.” She teased, coming to stand next to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie smiled weakly but couldn’t bring herself to clap back, instead staring ahead at the gray, imposing building before her. The pair stood in silence for what felt like an eternity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie…” Bill began before trailing off, picking her words carefully. “You… you know I love you, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie tore her eyes away from the building and gave her a strange look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I want you to get better. And I don’t want you to think I don’t care. I know I was pretty harsh the other day-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t- Bill, just stop.” Richie cut her off with a hand wave. “You were right. It was a long time coming…” She returned her gaze to the gray building in front of them. “I just need some tough love to make me see it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill nodded. “I’m sure Eddie would have torn you a new one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie couldn’t help but laugh at that, but the laugh quickly became a sob. Bill jumped up from where she was leaning against the car and waved her arms frantically. “No wait, don’t cry I shouldn’t have said that!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie shook her head and buried her face in her palms. “Jesus christ Bill. Jesus christ.” She laughed. It took a minute, but she managed to compose herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stood in silence for another minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “We should probably head in before they call the cops…” Richie muttered. Bill nodded and lifted up the bag before Richie could take it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m proud of you Rich.” She said, bumping the taller woman’s arm with her shoulder as they walked up to the glass doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, don’t get mushy on me Denbrough” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill pouted and shoved Richie’s bag towards her. “Alright then, good riddance. You won’t be missed.” She hesitated for a moment before pulling the redhead into a tight hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it Rich. I’m proud of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Thank you. Tell the others too, I don’t remember if I said it. I was half asleep…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill gave a watery laugh and gently wiped her eyes. “Alright, enough of this, people are gonna think we’re lovers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be lucky to have me, Miss Wilhelmina.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gross don’t call me that...” Bill shook Richie’s long arms off of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie grinned and lifted her bag. “Alright, I’m off.” She took a deep breath and stepped into the small office area. She turned back towards Bill as the glass doors slid shut behind her and waved. Bill waved back and stayed until Richie followed a pink haired nurse toward another room. She sighed as she walked back to her car, the sun just peeking over the horizon. For the first time in a long time, she knew everything was going to be alright. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. for the first time i had something to lose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Richie spends her time in rehab productively, making earrings and tackling her demons.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this is kindof rushed, I really want to get to the fluff instead of all this sad shit but it’s important to set up all the background.</p>
<p>Chapter title is from Holy Ground by Taylor Swift.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rehab had been an interesting experience for Richie, to say the least.<br/>Realistically she knew that it was going to take a lot of work to get her life back on track, but a very small, impractical part of her wanted it to be as quick as possible. In, out, back to Eddie’s bedside. When her therapist, Dr. Foley told her it would take about two months, it was more than a little disheartening. That was two months of not working. Her agency was going to be pissed. They might even drop her.<br/>She was almost happy at the thought. She wouldn’t have to be the token female in anymore male driven comedies. Of course that also meant that she was out of a job. She couldn’t go back to being a radio personality. Did anyone even listen to the radio anymore? Maybe she could start a podcast…<br/>Two months of rehab also meant not knowing if Eddie was awake or not. The good doctor (that’s what she called Dr. Foley) thought it would be best if she didn’t have her phone after she admitted to spending hours scrolling through tweets mentioning her. Her manager had told her that it was important to “maintain her image”. The good doctor thought it was “polluting her self image”. Richie was just thankful she didn’t have to read anymore horny tweets from sweaty nerds.<br/>Plus, Bill promised to send her a letter when Eddie woke up. Unfortunately that meant that every day until she got that letter would be spent waiting, which Richie was notoriously bad at.<br/>After three days impatiently asking him if she had received any letters, Dr. Foley decided that they needed to “find a more productive way for Richie to expend her energy”. Richie figured that was the polite way of saying “finding something for you to do so you stop annoying everyone.”<br/>Luckily, Clearwater had a multitude of activities she could take part in. There was painting, knitting, origami, and Richie’s favorite, jewelry making. Usually Richie wasn’t a fan of jewelry. It just never interested her. That was until she saw another girl making a pair of earrings out of plastic utensils she got from the cafeteria. When she asked about it, the girl called them as “lesbian earrings” a trend that had taken over social media apparently. The girl, who Richie found out later was named Bree, showed her videos of people making playing literally anything they could get their hands on.<br/>Needless to say, Richie was hooked. There was something very cathartic about the process. Also, she got to wear forks on her ears, which was literally the coolest thing she had ever seen. Once she ran out of items at the clinic, she sent a letter to the Losers asking them to send her things to make into earrings. They were more than happy to oblige.<br/>Bev and Ben were the first to respond, sending her a bag of plastic babies they found on amazon. Mike followed soon after with an envelope filled with cheap little plastic toys she had bought from gashapon machines all around Derry from various restaurants.<br/>Bill was the last to respond, nearly two weeks after the others. As expected it came with a lengthy letter that Richie so badly wanted to skim but knew she shouldn’t. Luckily, Bill was to the point where it mattered. At the top of the page, in Bill’s rushed scrawl, were the words ‘Eddie woke up.’<br/>Richie’s stomach dropped at the words. It was similar to the feeling of when the rollercoaster just climbed the chain lift and was teetering over the edge of the hill.<br/><em>Eddie is awake. Eddie is alive.</em> Her brain chanted over and over. It was like letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.<br/>The rest of the letter detailed Eddie’s condition, disoriented but otherwise doing well, all things considered. Richie couldn’t help but flush at the line “It only took her an hour to ask about you.” It made her want to clutch the letter to her chest and squeal like she was in some teen romance film, and honestly if she wasn’t in the clinic common room she probably would have.<br/>Eddie was hurting, Bill wrote, but she figured most people who had been impaled and thrown into a rock wall would be. The doctors didn’t seem to be worried. Actually, they seemed pretty surprised. There was no sign of brain damage aside from a mild concussion. Her abdomen was healing exceptionally well, with no sign of infection. Overall she was recovering much faster than expected.<br/>Hearing that Eddie was doing well felt like a weight was lifted off her chest, but it did bring about a new set of worries for Richie. What she was out of recovery before Richie was out of rehab? What if she shipped herself back to New York and to her husband and left Richie behind. She could follow her, but then what? Tell her how she felt? Expect Eddie to feel the same? She hadn’t really thought that part out yet, spending most of her time focused on whether or not Eddie was going to die. Still, it was good to know she was doing well. Even if she never told Eddie how she felt, she was still her best friend.<br/>The letter ended without much fanfare, Bill promised to browse the local thrift store and see what she could find. In the envelope she included a muppet sticker she got for a quarter at some diner as well as a note that says “looks like you!” written on a sheet of paper from a notepad with some drug name on it, probably given to her by a nurse at the hospital. Richie snorted and rolled her eyes. As she went to crumple the note, she realized there was another sheet stuck underneath it, with a note written in neat, looping cursive. Definitely not written by Bill.<br/>She separated the papers and inspected the second one closer.<br/><em>Richie,</em><br/><em>The doctor says I’m not supposed to be writing because of my concussion, but Bill said she’d cover for me so I have to write this quickly. How is rehab?</em><br/><em>That probably sounded sarcastic, but I’m being sincere. Bill says it will probably be two months, if you’re on your best behavior, so I guess we’ll see you in a year.</em><br/><em>I don’t know what else to write…</em><br/><em>The hospital food sucks. I have a newfound hatred for jello. Do you remember when they’d serve fruit jello at school? They dyed it green and it had pear chunks in it? It’s the same stuff here. They have the same supplier I bet.</em><br/><em>Mike stopped by this morning, she brought me some wildflowers she found on the farm. I’m allergic, I think, but I didn’t say anything. They make the room look nice. Myran isn’t here to throw them out, so I’ll keep them. Maybe we can press them like we used to at the clubhouse. I don’t know where I’d put them though.</em><br/><em>Maybe you can use your newfound jewelry making skills to make me a necklace or something.</em><br/><em>Bill told me about your earring making. Speaking of, I can only wear one now. The spot where it got ripped out took flesh with it, so now I have a chip in my ear. I look like a stray cat that got in a fight. Bev says it looks badass.</em><br/><em>I haven’t told Myran about being in the hospital. <strike>I think</strike> I’m going to file for a divorce.</em><br/><em>I’m out of room and my head hurts now.</em><br/><em><strike>L</strike> Miss you,</em><br/><em>Eddie</em></p>
<p>Richie blinked a few times and reread the last line. Leave it to Eddie to drop a bombshell like that without an explanation. Had she had some sort of revelation while in her coma? How Eddie described the relationship, it didn’t necessarily seem bad. Not like Bev’s ex at least. In fact, Eddie held her husband on a pretty high pedestal, gushing about his work in the church and how he took such good care of her. How her mother introduced them one day after mass and the rest was history. That was probably the strangest part. Sonia had all but banned Bev from the house when they were growing up. She had this irrational fear that Eddie would find a boyfriend and he would sweep her off of her feet and take her away from Derry (fear Richie could empathise with, though for entirely different reasons). Richie was sure she wasn’t the only one who was surprised to find out that Sonia had arranged the entire relationship.<br/>She also knew that she wasn’t the only one who was very suspicious of the entire thing. If Sonia really had picked Eddie a partner, it was likely someone she could manipulate as well. Or someone she could groom to treat Eddie like the fragile, sickly child Sonia thought she was. The thought made Richie nauseous.<br/>There was no use spending her time worrying about these things anyway, especially when she couldn’t talk to Eddie herself. It didn’t matter why Eddie was getting a divorce, just that she was. Did Richie even need a reason? Whatever it was, she was ecstatic, which then turned to guilt. Eddie was probably feeling like shit, and here she was selfishly taking pleasure that her best friend is going to be single which makes the minute chance that they could be together just a teeny bit better.<br/>Still, as guilty as she feels, it doesn’t stop her from indulging herself that night, lying awake imagining what life would be like if she and Eddie got married and lived together.<br/>-<br/>Therapy sessions were probably the hardest part of Richie’s time in rehab. She wasn’t really used to opening up to people. Growing up all of her friends had issues that felt so much worse than anything she was going through. It felt selfish to vent to them about anything. She knows they would be supportive and listen to her but she didn’t feel like any of her issues were worthy of their compassion.<br/>Even expressing the reason why she couldn’t express herself felt selfish. It took nearly two weeks before she was finally able to say that much to Dr. Foley, to which she responded:<br/>“Do you feel that you are worthy of love, Richie?”<br/>She hadn’t been sure how to respond to that. She could always trust the good doctor to ask the hard hitting questions.<br/>Was she worthy of love? The obvious and healthy answer was yes, of course she was. But if she was being completely honest, she wasn’t sure. There was a lingering part of her that felt she wasn’t. That she deceived people into loving her but she was really hiding some deep disgusting part of herself that would scare them away if she exposed it.<br/>Still, the Losers loved her and they had seen her at her absolute worst. The earring girl, who Richie later learned was named Hayley, seemed to like her. Maybe the people she was keeping the mask on for weren’t worth it. Maybe the people who liked her without the mask were.<br/>-<br/>On her last day at the clinic, she had arranged for Bill to pick her up, just like she dropped her off. She was very confused when she stepped outside to see a sleek black car pulled up to the curb where Bill’s beat up old jeep should have been.<br/>“Wow Billium, you really sprang for an upgra- '' the words died on her tongue as she approached the vehicle and saw a short blonde leaning against the door.<br/>“Hey Rich,” Eddie said gently as she pushed herself off the door.<br/>Richie could only stare at the woman in front of her. “Eddie, wh- I thought… you look different” she managed after a moment.<br/>Eddie scowled. “I surprise you after two months and this is how you greet me?” She crossed her arms and huffed.<br/>“No no! I didn’t mean bad, I just- you cut your hair and I- you… you look nice!” Richie stammered.<br/>Eddie snorted and shook her head. “I was teasing, relax.” She hesitated and uncrossed her arms before suddenly stepping forward to cup Richie’s face in her hands and pulling her down into a kiss.<br/>Richie was pretty sure in that moment her brain short circuited. She couldn’t move, she just let herself be kissed.<br/>After a minute, Eddie pulled away, her face flushed a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that I just saw you and I-“<br/>Before she could finish, something in Richie’s brain clicked back to life and she managed to pull Eddie in for another kiss. All she could think about was Eddie’s mouth on hers and the way she smelled and how soft her hips were as she settled her hands on them. She would have forgotten how to breathe if Eddie hadn’t pulled away first, opting to rest their foreheads together while they steadied their breathing.<br/>“I missed you.” She whispered softly. She didn’t say it, but Richie knew she wasn’t just talking about the last two months.<br/>-<br/>As they drove away from the clinic, Richie thought back to Dr. Foleys question. Did she deserve to be loved?<br/>Sitting in the passenger seat, one hand laced together with Eddie’s, she was pretty sure she knew the answer. It just took someone else to come along to prove it to her.</p>
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